A poor wayfaring man of grief Hath often crossed me on my way Who sued so humbly for relief That I could never answer nay I had not power to ask his name Whereto he when or whence he came But there was smoothing in his eye That won my love I knew not why Then in moment to my view The stranger started from disguise The tokens in his hands I knew The Savior stood before mine eyes He spake and my poor name he named "Of me thou has not been ashamed These deeds shall thy memorial be Fear not, thou didt's them unto me"